egg'd

As a youth pastor's wife, you get used to the litany of schemes and attacks of the teenage variety...this, however is a first.


I saw them out of the corner of my eye. The car was light blue and she jumped out in a pair of skinny jeans and a green t-shirt. Her ponytail bounced with her step. 


"Uh-Oh," I thought, mainly because I had been cleaning all day and didn't want to go to the door in my pajamas.


DING-DONG! My doorbell just rang. Do I open it, or just ignore it and hope that they walk away???


I glanced at myself in the mirror and decided honesty was the best policy. Putting my best foot forward (the one with some toenail polish left on it), I stepped toward the front door and opened it cautiously.


No one there.


But WAIT! There IS a carton of eggs setting on my doormat! I heard of Milk-men but Egg-men?


I knelt down to pick up the carton with "You've been egged!!!! :)" written on the top.

Classy.


Although, I probably will not attempt to eat them, this was probably the nicest form of egging that we'll ever have to endure. Thanks girls. You've made my day...

Only the first day of Spring Break. I wonder what other torture I'll succumb to this week.